Dowie uses his head

By Roy Collins

12:01AM BST 09 May 2004

As if one needed any further proof that Crystal Palace manager Iain Dowie is not your typical football coach, he reveals he always dreamed of being a surgeon, though he admits that the men in white coats may eventually be coming for him if he cannot learn to reduce his daily working life to at least 23 hours and 50 minutes.

Dowie's brain buzzes like an everlasting light bulb, powered by his desire to shine an educating light into every dark corner, usually by the use of a freshly discovered aphorism. He collects them the way supporters collect autographs and if 'I'll Sleep When I'm Dead' is not among them, it should be.

As recently as Friday morning, he gave up the uneven struggle with sleep at 5am and began trawling for nuggets in a book by innovative Australian rugby league coach Jack Gibson, moving on to Roy Keane's autobiography, not a great choice if he was looking for examples of turning the other cheek.

Before becoming a footballer, Dowie earned a degree in engineering, the career path followed by his father and brother. But as a manager, he has become fascinated by social engineering, in which he has proved so adept that he has brainwashed his previously struggling Palace players into believing they are Division One promotion hopefuls, having taken an astonishing 45 points in 21 games during his four months in charge.

He insists that bibs and balls are his most important coaching accessories. But he is constantly searching for ways to improve the fitness of players' minds as well as their bodies, often by employing one of his proverbial proverbs.

He admits to having already exhausted every sporting reference in the Oxford Dictionary of quotations, but says: "I found one this morning. 'Listen to the player's story. Listen to his real story. Then really listen to his real story'. To me, that's important, to actually take in what someone is saying."

He and coach John Harbin compete with one another for the most useful saying, regularly leaving torn out quotes on one another's desk. With the air of a stamp collector beaten to a penny black by a rival, Dowie says: "John has got one on his wall at the moment. It reads: 'You make a living by what you get. You make a life by what you give'. That's John's favourite."

He and Harbin, former manager of rugby league outfit Oldham Roughyeds, knew they were a match made in heaven when they were introduced by Oldham Athletic manager Mick Wadsworth and spent two hours talking about water recovery. As you do.

Dowie says: "When I became Oldham manager, I took him on as our fitness coach and since then we've become very close. He's got great standards, a terrific work ethic which matches mine and he's not just a scientist. He demands you show him your heart."

Dowie also demands that the players read and inwardly digest what he calls his goal sheets, a vastly scaled down version of former England manager Don Revie's dossiers, outlining the opposition's strengths and Palace's game plan.

He says: "The sheets are full of bullet points and I also use some key little buzz phrases. I get the hump if the players don't read them and the odd time I'll ask what set pieces I put on the sheet and what was the buzz word. It's not an examination but I will fire a question."

Palace's players now face the 64 million dollar question. Are they good enough to make it to the Premiership? That remarkable run means their destiny is now in their own hands, which Dowie describes as both frightening and great, needing only a point at Coventry today to secure a play-off position.

If Dowie has nourished the emotional needs of his players in the past four months, he and his family are suffering from severe malnutrition because of their enforced separation. He and his wife moved to Oldham with sons Oliver, 10, and William, 7, on the promise of a three-year contract that never materialised and he feels he cannot uproot them again at this point.

He said: "It's a huge sacrifice to be away from them and one that doesn't sit comfortably with me as a dad. I only spend 24 hours a week with them and I've missed a few things in their lives. One of the boys passed an entrance exam for a new school and the other took a few wickets at cricket. Nothing formative but then every day is formative, isn't it? The little one read the story linking me with the Leeds job and he said: 'Does that mean you're coming home?' That was tough."

He reminds himself, however, why he is making the sacrifice, even if he cannot compare a football boss's job to being a doctor or a teacher. "They are proper vocations. Football is a love and a desire and it makes people feel good; it makes the endorphins fly on a Sunday morning when you've won. So hopefully, the endorphins will be flying around Crystal Palace on Monday morning."

Dowie is already fretting, however, on the problems the Premiership could present. Like how would he deal with the Arsenal attack? If he has to confront that, he said, he might not get to bed at all, let alone sleep.

He says that Harbin, who regularly re-enters his conversation, told him only on Thursday that "the trouble with you and me is that we burn people out". After an hour in Dowie's intensive company, you could understand how and why.